


[Fanart] Snarry

by deaserkan



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Deas, Fanart, M/M, snarry, sshp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-17
Updated: 2019-03-17
Packaged: 2019-11-19 14:15:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18136823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deaserkan/pseuds/deaserkan
Summary: My collection of Snarry fanart and accompanying drabbles, ranging from G to Explicit. New works will be posted as new chapters with ratings. (The first 3 chapters are older drawings.)





	1. [T] Can’t Resist

  
Can’t resist.


	2. [T] “Dear god, boy...”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I imagine this set in Harry’s fourth year, that carriage scene...

  
‘Dear god, boy, do you know what you’re doing?’ Was Snape’s last coherent thought as Harry pressed his lips against his.

A burst of flames lit in both of their bellies. It was a just a brush of the lips as Snape snapped backward, flattening himself against the back of the carriage. ‘Potter.’ He whispered harshly.  
Harry would have none of it. He lifted his body from his seat and planted his legs on either side of Snape’s, straddling the older man. Snape’s released his breath in a rush, sounding like he was just punched in the gut, as Harry sat in his lap. He closed his eyes, it was too much.

He felt Harry’s hand tentatively lay over his heart. Harry felt the rapid beating, echoing the sound of running horses. 'Professor.’ He said. 'Your heart is beating so fast…’ He whispered.  
Snape almost whimpered.

Harry came by his ear, 'Are you in love with me, Sir?’ He asked, not expecting an answer.

But Snape did answer, it came in the form of a low whimper. His face turned and his black eyes burned into Harry’s, causing the boy’s heart to leap out of his chest. Harry barely had time to register what happened next as Snape’s long cold fingers gripped him and he was bent backwards as Snape’s mouth came crashing into his.


	3. [T] Understanding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Following the last image, set in Harry’s fourth year, the aftermath of the Triwizard tournament...

  
“Please…” Snape stood frozen, speechless for the first time in a long time. Never in a million years would he predict this would happen. He didn’t think even the most talented seer in the wizarding world could predict this.

Potter looked worse for wear, covered in cuts and bruises, but he had been able to control his trembling and change his clothes from the tournament. It was very early in the morning, it must be three or four…Severus couldn’t sleep with the burning of his arm and the image of Potter’s face, devastated by the events of the last task of the Triwizard tournament. He’d never seen the boy, who always looked at him with his father arrogant face, reflect the achingly familiar expression that Severus’ own held so many times as a child. It haunted him. It made him, in that moment, regret his unforgiving and unrelenting criticism of the boy. Severus, the hypocrite, was just like his father.

Potter’s face was looking towards the floor, pale and flushed at the same time. Snape could see a nervous sweat beading on his forehead. “Please, Professor…” the boy’s plea was a harsh quivering whisper in the cold echo of Snape’s office. The boy looked up at him finally, his eyes full of panic and threatening to shed tears. Snape frowned but held his tongue, and waited for Potter to say something more.

Potter’s mouth opened and closed, no sound escaping except for the grinding of his teeth. Snape watching him as he struggled to find his words. “I need…No one understands—“ His eyes pleaded with Snape, begging him to understand. Snape, to his credit, could guess. Taking in Potter’s movements, he watched his hands clench and unclench, his lip quiver, eye lids flutter. He took a chance and stepped forward, his arms spreading and Potter fell into his grasp. Potter clutched at him, his thin fingers scrabbling for purchase and twisted into his black robes. The boy once again started to shake, the emotions finally spilling forth into tears and sobs.

Snape struggled to suppress the feelings of awkwardness and disgust that sprang up immediately. Taking a breath, he thought of his mother and his father and all the injustices that he faced as a child and let go. He moved his hand upwards to thread into Potter’s hair, the other still supporting the boy in their position now on the floor. He thought of when he was a boy, his mother rocked him back and forth, he mimicked the motion now.

Potter cried for it seemed like hours, with Snape— his most hated professor, holding him tightly and resting his sallow cheek on top of Potter’s unruly hair. Truthfully, only maybe a half an hour passed before Harry calmed; his breathing becoming slow and even. Snape continued to smooth his fingers through his hair until Potter moved. Severus expected to see reality dawn onto the boy’s face and him to flee in embarrassment, but it didn’t come. Instead, Potter placed his hands on either side of Severus’ face. Unable to move, Snape was disarmed by the eyes of his one and only true friend staring up at him. He did nothing as the boy drew closer until their foreheads were touching, he gripped Potter’s arms as he let out a soft sigh.

Both of them, touch-starved and unaccustomed to affection, felt a trill of warmth and comfort. Four in the morning, in the wake of the death of a friend and student, in the aftermath of Voldemort’s return, Snape let go.

The moment his thin lips brushed Harry’s he knew—this was it. His body and soul, which were already given to protect this boy, were joined by his heart. He relished in the needy whimpers and gasps freely given as he kissed Harry deeper and deeper. Harry’s hands moved from Severus’ face to wrap behind his shoulders pulling the taller man as close as physically possible. When Severus’ own hands moved down Harry’s back to pull him on to his lap, the boy broke away with a gasp.

Severus saw the green eyes consumed by the black of dilated pupils, and then were transfixed to the reddened lips that moved with words; “Professor, please, I don’t want to die not feeling…” he gasped out. Severus frowned, trying to understand what he meant. “Potter…” he mumbled, but was cut off. Harry, believing he would be rejected, spoke before he could hear it. “I thought I was going to die tonight—” he said, looking a little wild. “In those moments I had so many regrets. One of them, is that I realized no one really knew me.” He shuddered in Snape’s arms. “I have loving friends, but they don’t know what it’s like.” Harry’s eyes turned back to him. “But after…Moody…I realized that you understand.” His wide green eyes bore into him.

Severus was unsure of what exactly the boy thought he understood, but he knew he understood the pain of witnessing a friend’s death. He understood the panic and desperation to live when you’re sure you won’t. He understood how it felt to be manipulated by a powerful wizard whom you placed your trust in. He knew what it was like to be alone. So he said simply, “Yes, I understand.” before he was kissed again.

And there was no more need for words until the dawn of the quiet morning.


	4. [M] Desparate to Taste

  
Desparate to Taste.  
By Deaserkan  


**Author's Note:**

> If you have requests, feel free to comment below.


End file.
